EIYTMA Chapter 18

“…It seems that Lady Arbois has an excellent eye.”  

 

“Oh my! Such a compliment! But of course, it’s only natural.”  

 

Felicia folded her fan with a snap, looking triumphant. Then, with the fan, she lightly lifted Iris’s chin.  

 

“Look at this. Lady Iris has such a delicate and elegant jawline. Even though she wraps herself in those dirty cloths every day! But my keen eyes did not miss it. And while she may seem like a country girl at first glance, those blue eyes are truly something to behold.”  

 

Ezekiel had always found Felicia’s way of speaking irksome. But today, he could not help but agree with her words.  

 

Felicia’s sense of aesthetics was truly remarkable. Among all the belongings she had, she had effortlessly picked out the ones that suited Iris best.  

 

“Of course, she may be lacking a bit in fullness, but that only makes her look like a delicate flower blooming on the edge of a cliff—it’s charming in its own way, isn’t it? Her hands may be rough from all the hard work she’s done, but her fingers are incredibly beautiful. And her wrists—let me see. Try on my bracelet. Look at that! Doesn’t it suit her perfectly?”  

 

Growing more delighted, Felicia ordered her maids to dress Iris up with this and that. Had one of her arms not been broken, she would have dressed Iris herself. Iris looked troubled.  

 

“Lady Arbois… I have nowhere to wear these…”  

 

“If there’s no place to wear them, we’ll just have to make one! Shall we have a party?”  

 

Iris appeared hesitant, but Felicia paid no attention. She lifted a lock of Iris’s hair with her fingers.  

 

“Long, flowing hair like this—it would look lovely styled up! What do you think? Do I have an eye for these things or not?”  

 

The person Felicia directed her proud question at was none other than Ezekiel. Perhaps she had taken a liking to his earlier praise.  

 

Ezekiel found himself speaking without thinking.  

 

“…She’s Beautiful.”  

 

Then, realizing his face was growing unbearably warm, he quickly turned and left.  

 

So, he did not see it.  

 

He did not see how Iris’s face had turned as red as a beet after hearing his words.  

 

***  

 

Ezekiel had left, leaving the remaining people in the room exchanging glances before suddenly bursting into laughter.  

 

“Ahaha! My brother is truly stingy when it comes to complimenting women.”  

 

Étienne chuckled, and Felicia followed with a playful laugh.  

 

“Prince Ezekiel is so different from you, Prince Étienne. Can a simple compliment really be that embarrassing for him?”  

 

The only one visibly flustered was Iris. With her face still red, she turned to Madame Babin in protest.  

 

“Madame Babin, how could you ask the prince something like that? You put him in such an awkward position.”  

 

Madame Babin shrugged her shoulders and shamelessly replied.  

 

“But from what I can tell, the prince doesn’t seem like the type to lie. He may have been flustered, but that just means his words were genuine—he really does think you’re beautiful!”  

 

“Madame Babin, you are truly wise!”  

 

Étienne clapped his hands in exaggerated admiration, while Iris pressed her fingers against her forehead.  

 

“Madame Babin! In any case, Lady Arbois, I really can’t accept such expensive things. I only did what I was supposed to…”  

 

But Étienne interjected once more.  

 

“Still, you look truly beautiful, Lady Iris.”  

 

“Your Highness…”  

 

Étienne could see how troubled Iris was, but he deliberately ignored it, instead placing his arm around her shoulders once again and playfully remarking,  

 

“A young lady of age must have fine clothes. Refusing Felicia’s kindness too much wouldn’t look good either.”  

 

“But…”  

 

“Lady Iris.”  

 

Étienne gave her a warm smile and gently pressed his forehead against hers.  

 

“Try to understand Felicia’s feelings, too. If you really refuse this gift…”  

 

Iris let out a small gasp at the sudden closeness. Étienne’s eyes curved into a smile.  

 

“I just might invite you to the royal ball.”  

 

Iris’s expression turned to one of disbelief. Étienne, tilting his head playfully, pulled back slightly and widened his eyes in feigned innocence.  

 

“What? You don’t think I would?”  

 

Only then did Iris let out a quiet sigh, finally relaxing.  

 

By now, she had come to understand this prince fairly well. In other words, he was exactly the kind of person who would truly invite her to a royal ball if he felt like it.  

 

Seeing no other choice, Iris lowered her gaze and mumbled,  

 

“Alright, I’ll accept it… But please, don’t say such frightening things…”  

 

Despite her reluctance, a faint trace of happiness flickered across her face.  

 

A fifteen-year-old girl was a complex being—hesitant to accept gifts too easily, yet unable to deny the allure of beautiful dresses and jewelry.  

 

However, Iris did not notice.  

 

She did not see the way Felicia, her expression scrunched up in frustration, was staring at her and Étienne as he whispered,  

 

“I really do wonder who will end up taking this beautiful young lady away.”  

 

***

 

Ezekiel tossed and turned, unable to sleep.  

 

…She’s beautiful.

 

How foolish he must have looked when he said that! He had dozed off briefly, but after dreaming of Iris Querluxia, who had grown into a breathtaking beauty, he woke up in a daze and could no longer sleep.  

 

“Haah.”  

 

In the end, he sat up in bed. He thought drinking some water might help him clear his mind. He assumed that everyone was asleep at this hour, but there was someone in the kitchen.  

 

“…Iris.”  

 

With only a small candle lit, Iris was in the kitchen, opening a jar of mead. She flinched and turned around, then smiled bashfully upon seeing Ezekiel. She looked relieved to recognize him, and that alone was enough to make him absurdly pleased.  

 

So much so that he even forgot that she was the reason he couldn’t sleep just moments ago.  

 

Ezekiel cautiously stepped into the kitchen.  

 

“What are you doing?”  

 

“Oh, I’m skimming the molds.”  

 

Inside the mead, remnants of the honeycomb crushed by Ezekiel and the mashed herbs floated about. The fermentation process had also caused bubbles to rise to the surface. It seemed that Iris was using a wooden ladle to skim them off.  

 

“I taste it to check if the flavor has set properly. If I leave it too long, the alcohol becomes bitter.”  

 

“I see…”  

 

Iris scooped up a small amount with the wooden ladle and held it out to Ezekiel.  

 

“Would you like to try it? I’m debating whether to stop the fermentation here or let it sit longer for a stronger brew.”  

 

Ezekiel smiled awkwardly and shook his head.  

 

“I’m not very knowledgeable about alcohol. My brother is much better at this than I am.”  

 

“But we can’t wake Prince Étienne at this hour, can we?”  

 

Iris chuckled softly.  

 

“Anyone can tell whether something tastes good or not. Give it a try—after all, it’s the mead you brewed yourself.”  

 

The pale mead in the wooden ladle carried a faint herbal scent mixed with sweetness. Then, after a moment, a subtle bitterness and warmth spread through him. But what drew his attention more than the alcohol’s taste was the pair of blue eyes staring directly at him.  

 

Deep and boundless, like the sky or a serene lake…  

 

Ezekiel unconsciously pressed his lips together, and Iris, still holding the ladle to his lips, blinked.  

 

“Why? Does it not taste good?”  

 

She didn’t seem to notice, but the distance between them was far too close. When she asked that, her breath gently tickled Ezekiel’s jaw. Was his face heating up because of the alcohol, or…  

 

“No… It’s delicious.”  

 

“Oh my. But…”  

 

Just when he thought he couldn’t feel more flustered, Iris did something unexpected—she reached out and gently touched his cheek.  

 

“Are you weak to alcohol? Your face is so red…”  

 

In that instant, their eyes met. Iris quickly pulled her hand away in alarm.  

 

“Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”  

 

Why? Why did he hate seeing her retreat?  

 

Before he realized it, Ezekiel had caught her wrist. Iris flinched but didn’t pull away. In a low voice, he called her name.  

 

“Iris.”  

 

“……”  

 

“If… If you don’t like it… you can push me away.”  

 

She didn’t push him away. Her long eyelashes fluttered as she gazed at him, then slowly lowered in shyness.  

 

The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow on her flushed cheeks, her delicate nose, and the small lips below them.  

 

“……”  

 

Ezekiel had always been a charming young man, and it wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say that any noble girl in the capital had, at some point, harbored feelings for him. Yet he himself had never once reciprocated those affections.  

 

That was why this moment felt so bewildering—but there was one thing he knew for certain.  

 

He wanted to kiss those lips.